Blessed: The Rising Of Little Witch
by Ember Belli
Summary: Kate Bleak had only lived in Salem two days and was familiar with the legend of the Sanderson Sisters. But when she decides to run away from her abusive parents, the old Sanderson Cottage seemed like a good hide out. But how will she react when she finds out that Winnifred's book can also conjure them up from the dead? A story of change.
1. Runaway Kate

I spent most of Halloween day in bed, sadly. I had woken up with such a migraine that I was surprised that I could even stand up. I was also surprised that my mother hadn't ripped me out of bed for something, either. I lay in bed until just after four in the afternoon. I was still embarassed from having to start school in wet clothes, and without my parents calling in my enrollment. But luckily, thanks to Principle Hayden, I was a student of Salem High School now.

On my way downstairs, I heard quite the ruckus from the front porch. I stood in the kitchen in awe, as my parents entered with about twelve people, and they all were headed up toward the poker room.

My mother stopped in the kitchen and grabbed an arm load of food. "Don't be bothering us, kid, or I'll beat the shit outta you. I'm hoping to win us some money for a nice bag of dust this weekend," she said, sticking her tongue out grossly. And with that, she headed up the stairs.

I treated myself to the best food I could find. All I really could find interesting was a jar of peanut butter and a box of crackers. I made a whole meal out of this, and when I was done, I was full and content. But I sat, bored for about ten minutes. I was waiting for it to get decently dusky so I could go up to the old Sanderson house and look around. I was pretty sure that my mother and her friends would be occupied with their drugs. I sighed. I wish we had a tv still, but my father had sold that for drugs for my mother, as usual. How could anyone ever act like that?

I was totally oblivious to the reason why my mother was the way she was. Had grandma used to hit her? I knew for sure grandpa hadn't because he never had hit me before. Perhaps something really bad happened to her that I didn't know about.

It was getting to be around six when I headed upstairs to change. As I was changing, I saw kids out in their costumes. I felt sorry because I had no candy to hand out. And I knew that neither one of my parents would do it. I had yearned to hand out candy for years, probably because I had never been trick or treating before. My parents had never taken me, so, even when I was old enough to go out alone, I never went anyway.

When I was done changing, I grabbed my music player and slid it in my pocket. When I went downstairs, I found my mother puking into the kitchen sink. How lovely!

I said nothing to her as I crossed into the mud room to get my hiking boots. It was wet outside and I knew that I'd need them. After I put them on, I re-entered the kitchen to cross to the front door. As soon as I was about to step out, something grabbed me.

I tensed, and looked into the face of my mother.

God, did she look awful. And I mean more awful than she normally looked! Her eyes were beat red, and she looked as if she was ready to kill someone. And that someone was me!

"Where do you think your going, you little bitch?" she said, lowly.

I pulled on her grip on me. "It's Halloween," I said. "I always go out on Halloween."

She began panting hard. "Not this year," she hissed.

I couldn't help myself, I had to fight back! I tensed my arm. "Well, I want to go out," I replied.

That was a huge mistake, for the next thing I knew, I was being slammed onto the floor. She jumped on top of me and began pummeling me. I tried to protect my face from her strikes, but she was too wild. I began to squirm and scream. I screamed like I had never screamed before. I felt a sharp pain as my bottom lip exploded and tasted of blood. The next thing I felt was her weight being pulled off of me. I looked up to see a big black man had restrained her, and she was clawing him in the face.

Quickly, without thinking, I bolted from my house, every muscle hurting. My mother wasn't a huge woman, but she wasn't any lightweight. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. I flew past trick or treaters, a group of teens I recognized from school, and a bunch of other people.

I ran and ran. I headed toward the hill that the old Salem cemetary was on. I huff and puffed as I made it to the top.

I tripped. Why? Why? Why? Why was my mother like this? Why did my father have to get sucked in by her druggie ways and the violence? All my life I had told myself that things would be better if she just went away.

I lay silent, and press a cheek into the dirt. It is getting dark now, and I am unaware of what I had tripped on. Everything hurt. My head pounded. I had to get up.

With all my might, I hoisted myself onto my feet, and peered down the opposite side of the hill. I could see the shape of yellow caution tape as it flowed in the October breeze. Figuring it was an open grave, I thought I'd check it out. I began limping painfully down the hill.

But what I saw was no grave.

It was the remnants of the old Sanderson house!

I stood in awe. At last, I had found it! Now, the real work began. Ever since I heard that story, something in my gut had told me that Billy from English wasn't lying. Mostly, I was here to prove to myself that witches didn't exist.

It was an old building, indeed. The woodwork was some of the oldest I had ever seen. It looked older than my grandfather's barn. Pieces of the once delicate walls lay sprawled here and there. But luckily, the door was still intact. I didn't care that there was caution tape, I ducked underneath it and slowly approached the front steps. This house was witch-like. Very witch-like indeed.

I crept inside the front door, and found myself surrounded in darkness. A peculiar smell filled my nostrils. It smelled of herbs and must. I couldn't belive that I was actually doing this! And I

didn't care that it was condemned, either. I was not afraid. I knew my parents wouldn't find me here, they probably didn't care that I was gone.

I felt along the wall until I managed to form my fingers on a light switch. I switched it, and found myself peering at items that totally amazed me. Why, there was a cauldron, an actual cauldron in the middle of the room. I approached it, and ran my finger along the rim. It was dusty, but it was indeed real. I crept around some more. Sure enough, three old fashioned brooms hung over a stack of crumpled up papers. Well, I found myself mighty impressed.

But what really caught my eye, was a single candle perched in an old candlestick. I approached it, and began to run my fingers over it. It was carved with elegant designs. I began to wonder if this was the candle that the boy in English had been talking about. Hmmmm...should I light it? Even if I wanted to light it, I had nothing to light it with. Perhaps if I looked around I could find some rocks to create sparks or something.

I began to search again, so as to not forget where I had left the candle. I stopped in front of an absurdly big display case. I couldn't see what was in it on account of there being so much dust. There was a hole in the roof, from which the full moon was fully visible. A small gust of wind blew a piece of my brown hair. Without thinking, I spit on the display case, and began to wipe away the dust with my sleeve. As I scrubbed harder, something thick and brown became visible.

By the time I had revealed what was inside, I found myself peering in at the strangest book I had ever seen. It was rather old looking, with what looked like carvings etched into the front of it. On the rightmost side of the cover, a closed circle sat.

Spell book

, I thought immediately. It had to be! It looked older than anything I had ever seen.

There was a heavy lock on the front of the display case. Next to a bookshelf was a piece of metal pipe, random, I know, but I picked it up. Even though my wrists hurt from when my mother had attacked me, I began to violently smash the pipe into the lock. With much success, the lock seemed to break into a million rusty pieces with just a few hefty whacks.

I dropped the piece of pipe and opened the display case. I had no idea why, but I yearned to explore the pages of that book. It was heavier than it looked, and it heaved in my tired grasp. My fatigue forced me to sit down with it. I sat on the floor, my back against a counter of what looked like potion bottles.

I opened the book with ease, and began exploiting the writing. It was written in the fanciest writing I had ever laid my eyes upon. And the way the spells were worded was phenomenal. This was some treasure I had stumbled upon.

I discovered a spell that puzzled me. The page had:_ Raise Witches_ written at the top. Was this a spell for raising witches from children, perhaps? Thinking it would be funny, I began to recite the writing out loud, with a serious tone, as if I expected something to really happen.

"O witches,

down below,

packed so deep,

here thy call,

may you return,

and hex them all"

I began to say it, faster and faster, my heart pounding harder with every recite. I felt as if all of my energy was rushing through my veins, and was giving me a power-overload. I felt pretty good. I could hear strange noises ring in my ears. By the time I had recited it about ten times, everything fell still and silent. I was left, trembling.

A loud cackle could be heard, along with the sound of the door slamming open.


	2. The Sanderson Sisters

Everything in the cottage fell completely silent. It seemed as if I couldn't even hear my own heart beating. I slowed my breathing. What had just happened? What had I done? I crouched into a ball, closed the book, and tucked it under my chin.

"At last, Sisters, we're home!" hissed a happy voice. It was followed by giggling.

As I sat, the sound of feet moving across the floor filled the room, and three figures stepped in. They were women, all three of them dressed in dresses of strange fashions. One of them looked significantly older than the other two. She crept out in front. She had a messy head of wild, curly, red hair pinned up in a peculiar shape. She also had the most awkward buck teeth I had ever seen.

The one to her left was chubby, and had black hair, and bright red lips. She began to snigger quietly as she followed the one with the bucked teeth.

The third was decently pretty, I guess you could say. She looked the youngest of them all. She had a nice figure for a fellow female. But she was pale as a ghost, which clashed horribly with her almost-white hair.

I dug my nails into the binding of the book. Whoever these women were, they looked like crooks or something. They crept through the cottage, scanning every inch of it. After a few moments, the red-headed one straightened up and made her way over to the cauldron. There, she ran her finger along the rim, and began rolling the dust between two fingers, just as I had done.

"Well, at least it _feels_ like we're home," she remarked. She quickly pivoted on her heel and faced the other two. "This places looks like it's gone to hell and back," she hissed. I watched intently, just hoping that she wouldn't notice me as she made her way over to the display case the book had been in. She crinkled her nose when she noticed it was gone. She raised a fist, and slammed it heavily down upon the top of it. "My book!" She turned to them again. "Sisters, my book hath gone missing again!"

The chubby woman stopped, and her hands immediately cupped her dimpled face. "Oh, Winnie! That's awful!"

The woman called "Winnie" made an ugly snorting noise with her nostrils. She twitched her head wildly for a moment, and made a strange hand gesture.

Suddenly, the youngest one hollered from across the room. "Winnie! Mary! Come look!" she pointed out loudly.

I watched as Winnie and Mary joined her at her sides.

"Why, the Black-flamed candle hath not been lit!" said Winnie, surprised.

Mary began to observe her hands carefully, as if the answer to her question lay upon them. "But, Winnie, how art we alive if the candle has not been lit?" she asked hysterically.

Winnie made two fists and shook them angrily. "I have not a clue! But I shalt find out!" She began to angrily stomp across the room, as my mother often did.

Winnie was nearing my hiding spot, when Mary shouted: "Winnie, wait!"

Winnie halted. "What does thy want?" she hissed.

Mary smiled. "I. Smell... children," she said excitedly.

Winnie smiled a breath of relief and faced her sisters. "Mary. Sarah. Sick 'em," she instructed, as if they were dogs.

Mary began to sniff the air, as if she were a dog. How strange these women were! Sarah and Winnie jumped to her sides, and they began searching in unison. Could they really smell me? No, that was beyond ridiculous! Still, I clung to the book. I closed my eyes and began to cringe as their footsteps became dangerously close.

"Ahhhh...," I heard Winnie say. "What hath we here?"

A hand reached down and grabbed the back of my sweater. I then was being pulled up on my feet. My eyes jerked open as someone snatched the book from my hands. I found myself staring into the faces of all three of them. What was I supposed to do now?

They were the Sanderson Sisters! And I had brought them back!

Should I lash out? Should I scream? I decided that the best thing was to stand idle.

Winnie smiled evilly and got close to me. "My, my, my, what a pretty...child," she choked. She handed the book to Mary and locked arms with me, pulling me at her side. "Tell me, child, what is the year?"

"Two thousand and twelve," I replied, trembling. Winnie's skin felt cold. It was colder than the weather.

Winnie's head snapped toward her sisters. "Another nineteen years," she hissed. "Mayhap we can survive longer, this time. After all, we have a child, right here," said Winnie, turning me around, and shoving me into a chair. She cackled. She then took the book from Mary and began stroking the spine of it. "Tell me, child, what be thy name?"

"Kaytrina Bleak," I replied.

Winnie let out a loud cackle. She licked her lips hungrily and slowly walked toward the cauldron, flipping through the pages of the book. She walked with pride in her strides. "If thy didn't know, I am Winifred Sanderson, and those are my idiotic sisters, Mary and Sarah."

Aha! So I was right! Which meant...WICTHES WERE REAL!

I didn't know what I was to do. I sat as Mary and Sarah began to poke at me. Mary poked around my nose, my ears and my mouth. Sarah had developed an obsession with my neck, and was fingering the muscles in my throat. Her fingers sent a tingling sensation down my spine, causing me to wriggle. I felt very odd. Sarah moved her touchy hands down to my jacket, where she began to figure out the zipper. She had fully unzipped me, and she sprang back.

"Uh! Winnie?" she said worriedly.

"What be thy matter?" Winnie hissed.

Mary gulped loudly. Sarah began to coward. "This be not a child, Winnie," Sarah managed to squeak out.

Winifred hissed. She slammed her book shut and flew over to us. She stood before me, staring at my tiny body. I was seventeen, and I had a teenager's body. Winifred's eyes became almost dark and she bared her front teeth. She hissed again and swept angrily toward the opposite side of the cottage.

"Your right, Sarah!" she said. She began pacing before the window. "She is no child. She's much too old for the potion to work."

Mary looked puzzled. "So what do we do with her, Winnie?" she asked, quirking a brow.

Winifred paced, hand upon her face, just pondering on what she could do to me. She quickly schemed up an idea. She snapped her fingers. "I've got it! Since we can't use her for a life force, why don't we imprison her. After all, this place could use a little tidying-up."

Sarah started to giggle and clap her hands wildly like a child. She danced about the cottage floor, and made her way over to what looked like the door to a closet. She revealed a normal broom, and threw it at me. I caught it, and sat still. The great Sanderson Sisters really wanted me to clean their house for them? How wrong this whole situation felt!

Winifred approached me, laid her hands on the arms of the chair, and leaned down into my face. "Dost thou comprehend?" she asked lowly.

I nodded.

"Good!" she shrieked, swooping away from me, her dress hitting me in the face.

I did as was asked, and began sweeping the floor awkwardly. So, I run away into an old cottage, I accidently conjure up witches from the dead, and...they want me to clean? I had already know these witches five minutes, and they already wanted me to work. I could laugh. But I didn't dare, for I didn't want to anger Winifred, she looked as if she could get vicious.

Behind me, the Sanderson Sisters crowded around the cauldron, just staring into it.

"Well, Winnie," said Mary. "What do we do now?"

Winifred cackled again, I take it she liked cackling. "Now, we feed ourselves with the delectable population of children in this town," she hissed happily. "We must fly and collect ingredients for the potion."

I stopped sweeping for a second, and raised my brows. _Feed ourselves? Children? _So thats what they were doing when the Binx's discovered them. If the Sanderson Sisters were real, Thackery Binx had to be real too!

Just then, Winifred screamed, and a bolt of lightning struck past me, bounced off a window, hit a bottle, which fell over and startled me.

"Did I say to stop sweeping, hmmmm?" Winifred asked.

I began to sweep again.


	3. Ideas

"But, Winnie, what shalt we do with her?" Sarah asked, flicking her head in my direction.

I had just finished sweeping the cottage floor, which had taken me almost an hour. Now, the Sanderson Sisters stood before me wearing their cloaks, brooms in their hands. They were readying to fly off and collect things that Winifred required to brew a certain potion. They were debating on what to do with me while they were away. Mary was for staying and watching over me. Sarah was for hanging me on a hook. And I had no idea what Winifred wanted.

They stood before me, just thinking.

Winifred bore her teet at me, and squinted her eyes. "I have it! Thou shalt be hung in a cage until our return," she said deeply.

At first I thought that- even though she was a witch- Winifred was joking. But the way she batted her eyelashes told me that she was serious.

Oh, and how serious she was!

The next thing I knew, I was in a cage, hanging from the ceiling. Oh, yes! How lovely! And, to make things better, Mary began to wonder what they were going to feed me, now that I was their new "pet" so to speak.

"Ah," said Winifred. "The slave of the Sanderson Sisters shall be very well fed, indeed," she teased. She raised a finger and said a spell that I did not catch. I had moved to the side of the cage, and rested my back against the bars. Suddenly, a Clark bar landed between my feet. "Enjoy!" Winifred screeched highly.

And with that, they all laughed and headed out the door. As I sat in the cage, I heard odd whooshing sounds. Must be the sound of the brooms. I sighed, and grabbed the Clark bar. How old were these things, anyway? I hadn't had one in years and I had totally forgotten what they tasted like. Oh, well, it was food anyway.

As I began to slowly munch on the Clark bar, many thoughts whirled through my head. Although I was the prisoner of three women who were older than I could possibly think, and the fact that I'm in a cage, I actually was happy that I was away from my parents. I was comforted by the fact that I knew they wouldn't find me here. I doubt that they'd even bother to look. They didn't care about me, so I didn't care about them.

I had finished my Clark bar and had curled up, and attempted some much-needed sleep. What seemed like hours passed, and it soon became pitch black. I took it to be around ten or eleven. It became very cold in the cottage, and I balled up to keep myself warm. Memories of cold nights in our townhouse back in Virginia plagued my mind, and began to put me in a sour mood. I closed myself tighter in my ball, and tried so very hard to sleep.

The sound of feet landing on the front stoop awoke me about twenty minutes later. I quickly uncurled myself and sat upright, just as Sarah entered the cottage by her lonesome. I sat, perplexed. Where were Mary and Winifred.

Sarah strode happily over to the cage. She looked up at me and smiled. "Hello, there," she cooed.

"Hi," I greeted plainly. Truthfully, I was a little weary of Sarah. I was too afraid that she really would hang me on a hook and play with me. But, she seemed nice, in a sort of dim-witted way. "Umm..." I said. "How was flying?" I asked. I took it that I was going to be here for a while, so I might as well make friends with at least one- maybe two- of the Sanderson Sisters.

"The weather is quite nice tonight," remarked Sarah happily. "The wind isn't too strong, either." She set her broom up against the wall, and removed her hood. She shook out her long hair, and began to comb it with her fingers. She giggled highly as she crossed the room and dug in a small box.

"Don't tell Winnie I went in her box," she said.

I nodded. "It's safe with me."

She dug around for a few minutes. It seemed that box could hold more than it looked like it could. It was almost like Mary Poppins' carpet bag. I watched as Sarah finally withdrew her hand. Inside, was an iron key. She crossed the room to me.

"I'm going to let you out. Promise you'll be good?" she asked sweetly.

I nodded.

Sarah unlocked the lock, and I jumped down and landed on my feet. "Thank you," I said.

"Remember," Sarah reminded me. "No telling Winnie I went in her box."

I quirked a brow. "What if she asks how I got out?" I asked curiously.

Sarah stopped walking and flipped her head to look at me. "Tell her I used magic." She winked and put the key back in Winifred's box.

I began circling the cottage, examining all of the witch items. They were very interesting. When I first had come here, I thought that they were costume props, but now that I have a closer look, I can see that they are indeed real. I found one potion vile that looked like it was composed of twisted glass. It was green, so I took it to be Winifred's. I reminded myself not to touch anything of Winifred's.

"How did you get that blood on your lip. If you don't mind me asking?" Sarah asked. She was digging through a cupboard of tins. She seemed a little lost.

I gently touched an empty potion bottle that I found. I picked it up and began twirling it around in my palms, careful as not to drop it. "My, uh, mother put it there." I explained. Sarah was dull. I was hoping she wouldn't ask.

"Oh?" she asked, reaching higher into the cupboard. "Did she use a spell?"

I laughed. "Yeah," I lied. I felt bad about lying to someone who was being decently nice to me. "Well, no."

"Did she throw something at you? Perhaps a potion bottle?"

I shook my head. "She hit me," I said, flat out.

Sarah paused, standing on her tip-toes, her hands still buried in the cupboard. "Oh." She continued to dig until she found what she must have been looking for, and she walked over to me. It was a small circular tin. She unscrewed the top. Inside was a pale yellow substance. She put some on the end of her finger, and began dabbing it on my lip.

Whatever it was, it smelled disgusting, and it tasted worse than it smelled. "Ugh! What is that?" I asked.

"It's a minor healing salve. I know that we're not the type of witches who use this, but it's nice to have around. I have to hide it from Winnie. Winnie hates white magic, and that's what creates this. If she ever found it, she'd destroy it," she sighed.

She quickly capped it, and hid it in her palms. Sarah wasn't as half as dull as I thought her to be. Perhaps she only acted that way around her sisters. Truthfully, I think that she was the underdog of the family, the one who always got pushed aside, as I was. Perhaps I could become friends with her. I would have to do it when the other two weren't around.

Just then, Winifred's loud cackle filled the air. Sarah quickly put the salve away, and began to act lost. She dropped to her knees and began feeling around under things. As Winifred and Mary came in, she began acting even more lost. The thing was, she had not lost anything. So, I quickly snatched a potion bottle from the shelf, and I dropped to my knees. I rolled the bottle under the nearest table, where Sarah could find it. She looked at me strangely when she saw what I had done.

"I'll help you find it, Sarah," I said aloud.

"What's going on in here?" hissed Winifred.

Sarah frowned. "Oh, Winnie, I hath dropped a potion bottle."

Someone grabbed a fist full of my hair, and yanked my head up. It was Winifred. "And what are thou doing?" she asked, a mockery in her voice. "And who let you out?"

I said nothing. Sarah took it upon herself to answer.

"I let her out, Winnie. I used the lock spell Mummy taught me. She said she'd help me find the bottle. Oh, Winnie, I'm sorry!" she cried helplessly.

Winifred released my hair, causing me to fall towards the floor. Luckily, I caught myself on my hands. She walked away snootily, and stood at the cauldron. Sarah winked at me, and she grabbed the bottle.

"Got it!" she yelled. She then began to jump up and down like a child, and scream happily.

Winifred stomped a heel. "Will you quit it!"

Sarah fell still.

"Are the children coming?" Winifred asked her.

Sarah nodded. "Yes, Winnie."

"Excellent. Now, tie the girl up," she instructed. "I do not want her interfering with our plans."

I then was bound to a chair by heavy rope. I watched as Winifred brewed a green potion. She added things such as dead bugs, spit, a mans toes, and even a pice of her own tongue, which she bit off. I said nothing, I sat, disgusted, frightened, and ever a bit eager to find out what they were going to do with this potion.

The next step involved was many young children entering the cottage. The first one was a little boy. Winifred took him by the arm, and sat him in a chair next to me. What exactly was she going to do to him?

"Open wide, Dearie," Winifred cooed, dumping a spoonful oof potion in the boy's mouth.

I felt very strange onlooking. What happened next both amazed and scared me at the same time. The little boy began to turn translucent. A sort of pinkish smoke was being emitted from his body. The cottage then began to obtain an odd smell. It was different than anything I had ever smelled before. To me it smelled like a mixture of damp autumn leaves, and burnt wood. The smell got so strong that I couldn't breathe anymore. I wriggled in my bounds.

Suddenly, Winifred, Mary and Sarah all crowded the boy. They began making sucking sounds. The pinkish smoke began to flow into their mouths, until, at last, the boy had been consumed, and he lay, dead in the chair.

The other children seemed to snap out o their enchantment, for they all ran scared.

Winifred dropped to her knees, and began to clutch at her face. Mary began to scream, and Sarah began to twitch wildly. It made me think that I was in a madhouse or something! With some force, I managed to scoot my chair backwards. What was the boy's life force going to do to them?

After a handful of moments, Winifred stood up, and turned around. Why, she looked exactly the same, only, she had two big pink spots of rosiness on her cheeks. Mary and Sarah looked the same as well.

"Well?" Winifred asked me, as if my opinion actually mattered to her.

"Well...," I trailed. "You look the same to me."

Winifred looked as if I was the biggest jerk on earth. She scooted across the room, whipped open a drawer in a desk, and dug out an old hand-mirror. She looked at her reflection for a mere thirty seconds, and she threw the mirror back into the drawer, and slammed it close.

"Cursed!" she yelled. "She's right!" She panted heavily. I think that sucking up the life force had tired her out. "It did not affect us."

Mary looked discouraged. "But, art thou protected from the sun?" she asked. "For it is nearing dawn quickly, Sister."

Winifred's finger met the dimple in her chin. "Perhaps. Oh, we shalt never be young and beautiful again!" she yelled in despair.

Mary was right, because when I looked out the window, sure enough, the sun was beginning to rise. It's golden radiance rising quickly over the hill which bore the old Salem cometary. I think I ought to stay here for now, even if the witches didn't survive. I always could stay in the cottage. But, what would I do for food means. I pondered hard.

Without me realizing it at first, Winifred drew a dagger from down in her dress somewhere, and began cutting the bounds off me. When she was done, she concealed the dagger and placed her hands on her temples.

"Go on, child," she said, despairingly. "Go home. Thy is not needed anymore."

I stood up. But, I had nowhere to go. My parents didn't want me. But how was I to tell them that? Would they understand? I hardly didn't think so. I know it was a weird thing to say but, I kind of liked staying with the witches. I actually felt safe.

"I can't," I simply said.

Winifred stopped. "What does thy mean?" she asked deeply.

"There is no point of me going home. There is nothing for me to go home to."

"What sayest thou?" asked Mary.

I skipped telling them my whole situation. Not only was it embarassing, it was also was a reason for me to forget. And explaining would just make me remember. I walked over to the window. "Do you three require an apprentice of some sort?" I asked in a smart tone.

"A what?" Sarah asked.

I folded my hands together. "An apprentice. You know, like a house slave?" I asked. "Someone who cooks and cleans, and answers to your every whim."

Winifred turned around. She had quite the odd look on her face. She looked surprised that I would say such a thing. "What is thou getting at?" she asked quizzically.

"What I'm getting at is the fact that I indeed don't have a home. And I, Kaytrina Bleak, am offering you, the Sanderson Sisters, my soul to take total control over and make me your slave." I was on a roll here, I thought, so to make things more believable, I lowered my head honorably.

Winifred just smiled evilly.


	4. Discovering Sarah

It was about a week later. I was busy scrubbing the cauldron while Winifred and Mary were away. Sarah stayed behind and decided that it would be fun to clean things with me, I guess. As I was scrubbing, she was humming a song, and wiping off potion bottles with a rag. For the past week, Winifred and Mary had been worried about turning into dust whenever the sun came up. They'd hide in the closet until I said that the sun was up and that it was safe to come out. Sarah, however hadn't worried about it once, and took to helping me as much as she could. Don't get me wrong, she's nice and all, but she's still a witch and she's still evil.

I rather liked the song she was humming, so I decided to ask her about it. "Sarah?" I asked.

"Yes?" she replied. She continued to hum.

"What is that song you keep singing?" I asked.

"Why, it's not a song. It's a charm," she said. She cleared her throat and set down the potion bottle she had finished dusting, and grabbed a new one.

"_Come little children,_

I'll take thee away,

into the land of enchantment,"

she sang.

I stopped scrubbing and tilted my head. What a pretty song it was!

"Come little children,

the times come to play,

here in my garden of magic."

She finished softly, and when she was done, she giggled, and set the potion bottle down. She then presumed to help me finish scrubbing the cauldron. When we were finished with everything Winifred had instructed us to do, we sat around. Sarah dug into her corset, and pulled out a handful of candy. It seemed that all the witches thought we humans ate was candy, so, that's what I got fed. Candy conjured by magic. Man, I was going to put on a few pounds here. I got myself a chocolate bar and sat against the cauldron, slowly devouring it.

Sarah began to hum again. She seemed really joyful whenever Winifred and Mary left her behind. I had to say that even though she acted dumb when her sisters were around, when she was alone, she was quite pleasant company.

Cleaning for Winifred was hard work, but I truthfully didn't mind. It got me mostly on good terms with her, anyway. And I had my necessities. I had food, which obviously was candy. I had water, whenever I was thirsty Sarah would fill up a cup with her magic for me. And I had shelter. The cottage was nice, although my bed was a bunch of old sheets thrown in the corner. It was better than being smacked for every small fault I made. I mean, I was lucky if Winifred even looked at me when my work was finished. Most of the time, when she wasn't flying, either her and her sisters were busy potion brewing, or she was spending quality time with that book of hers.

What irked me was the fact that Halloween was over. I mean, would the witches continue to fly and cause hell when there was snow on the ground? Or, maybe they hibernated. If that was the case, it was going to be a long, lonely winter.

I had stopped going to school, too. I figured that the more I avoided going in public, the less of a chance I had of cops finding me and taking back to my parents.

Sarah sighed and sat in a chair.

"Sarah," I said. "What's it like to fly?" I asked.

Sarah giggled. "It's fun," she replied. "Even though I'm not very fast at it." She began to play with the wrinkles in her skirt. "Winnie's the fastest flyer of us all. Mary's the slowest," she teased.

"Is it hard? Learning to fly, I mean."

Sarah shook her head. "Once you get the hang of it, it's pretty easy."

I nodded. "I wold love to fly someday."

Sarah began to play with her hair for a few moments. I turned my head and looked out the window at the sky. It was a nice November day out, a little chilly. But ever since Winifred fixed the hole in the roof, the cottage had remained quite comfortable for both witches and humans alike. Truth be told, I kind of admired the Sanderson Sisters. Being able to fly, and make things happen with a swish of your fingers must make life a whole lot simpler.

Sarah suddenly jumped up on her feet. "Perhaps thou can fly!" she screeched.

I began to giggle. How ridiculous that Sarah was.

"Wait here!" she instructed excitedly.

She returned holding two brooms. Her wicker broom was in her left hand, and the sweeping broom was in her right. She took them both in one hand, and grabbed my wrist with the other. She began to pull me outside.

Over on the left side of the cottage, near the trees was a stump. Sarah had me stand on top of it, and she handed me the sweeping broom. She then began to sweep my hair over my ears and over my back in a strange way. She then dropped her broom on the ground, and ran into the cottage. She returned with her cloak, which she button around my neck.

"Alright! Now. FLY!" she instructed.

I just stood there. Was Sarah really trying to get me to fly? This is ridiculous. I'm not a witch!

"Ugh, Sarah..."

Sarah bent over and retrieved her broom. "No, no, no. No talking. Just, fly."

I raised a brow. Did she really think that I could fly? There really was no phasing her, was there? I decided to just play along. "Alright, Sarah, you got me. Now, how do I work this blasted thing?" I asked.

She giggled, and held her broom up above her head. "Like this."

Amazingly, Sarah's feet began to float upward. I stood, amazed, as her feet raised high above my head. Then, she thrust the broom under her, and sat, floating. This made me very jealous. But I couldn't bring myself to attempt. I wasn't a witch.

Sarah giggled. "Now, you try."

I shrugged. It was worth a try, I guess. I braced myself for utter dissapointment. I raised the broom slowly, and envisioned myself floating. For a moment there, my stomach began to flutter. But, when I looked down, I was still atop the stump. I lowered the broom. "It's no use, Sarah."

Sarah looked down at me, downcast, and she began to float towards the ground. She landed gracefully.

"I'm not as witch, as you are," I said finally. I unbuttoned her cloak and handed it to her. I took the broom and fled into the cottage. I couldn't be dissapointed. I knew that this was going to happen. Whenever something good happened to me, I always expected it to flourish and become the greatest thing in my life. My life was full of rejection. I couldn't fly even if I wanted to. I was born a human, not a witch. A week ago, I didn't even believe in witches, now that I know they're real, I wanted to be one more than anything.

I put the broom away in the closet, and sat in the chair. Winifred's book sat on it's stand, about ten feet from me. It was just a book. It was the witches who contained the magic, not the book. I became bored, and I didn't have anything to do. I had no idea where Sarah went.

I knew where she went soon enough, for she returned to the cottage along with Winifred and Mary. They were all laughing about something, I took it that it was my failure to fly, unless Sarah had not told. I turned my head away from them.

"Well, Kaytrina, the place looks much better," said Winifred. "Marvelous job." I looked in her direction. She swirled her hand, and made a Clark bar appear. "Your reward."

She handed it to me. "Thanks," I said lowly, taking it.

Winifred nodded, and made her way to her book. She slowly began flipping through pages.

"So, how was thy day, Sarah?" she asked.

Sarah laughed. "It was wonderful, Winnie! This morning, after you left, I went flying. I saw boys! Boys everywhere! And then I cam back and helped Kaytrina clean. We cleaned the cauldron and the potion bottles, and a few other things," she said excitedly. "Oh! And then, I tried to teach Kaytrina how to fly!"

I tensed. There it was. Surely it was going to be the end of me now. Thanks, Sarah.

Winifred sniffled. A dark look overtook her face. "And why would thou do that?"

Sarah cowered. "Because," she whimpered. "Say said she would love to learn how. And, being the nice witch I am, I tried to teach her."

Winifred tensed, and made her hands into fists at her sides. She hissed, and zoomed over to me. She threw her hands violently onto the arms of the chair, and leaned into my face. "Thy thinks she is a witch, dost she?" she interrogated.

I shook my head slowly. I was not afraid of her. Her breath smelled of potion. "No, Winifred, I do not," I said plainly.

She hissed in my face. "I do not believe thee!" She snorted again. "Well, well, well, if thou thinks she's a witch, why don't we see about that!"

She grabbed my sweater in two fists full of anger.


	5. The Spell

A/N: I love this story. Thank you so much to Guest and SkullGauddess for reviewing!

"What art thou doing, Winifred?" Mary asked.

Winifred was flying around the cottage, collecting many different things for a potion. I knew that Sarah had angered her. I wish she just had kept her mouth shut. But, no, Winifred and Mary just had to know that she gave me a flying lesson. I sat silent and watched as Winifred collected an arm-load of things, including her book. She set them all down in a line, and removed the caps. She also muttered something to the book, and it flew open.

She then threw them into the boiling cauldron. Whatever it was, it spit out a cloud of purple smoke. Mary and Sarah looked startled, and they were in the corner, holding one another. I don't think that they have ever seen Winifred act in such ways.

"Now," hissed Winifred, picking up her book, and walking to my side.

She opened the book, and set it on my lap hardly. I stared down at it.

"Thou thinks she is a witch, eh?" she asked me. She ran a fingernail down the back of my neck. It sent a strange feeling down my spine. "We shall see. If you would recite the spell before you, please."

I began trembling. Why was Winifred asking me to read this spell? Without thinking about what I was doing, I gently picked up the book and read the spell silently. It didn't have a title or anything, it was a small spell, composed of four words.

Winifred poked me with a nail. "Now!" she hissed.

I gulped, and began to read.

"Itchita Copita Malica Mystica."

Suddenly, before I could comprehend what I had read, the cauldron made a poof sound, and it spit up a huge amount of smoke. The purple smoke began to fade into a green color, and began to swirl around.

Winifred put her hands to her temples and screamed. Mary and Sarah also began to scream. Winifred's book launched itself out of my hands, and landed on the floor. As I wriggled in my chair, I began to wonder what I had done wrong. Winifred, still screaming, ran to the cauldron and began to stare down into it. She stopped screaming and evilly glared down into the once-purple potion.

"Purloin!" she hissed. She then ran over to Mary and Sarah. She pushed Mary away and grabbed onto Sarah's dress, pulling her close. "Did the flying work?" she asked.

Sarah began to tremble. Obviously Winifred had never acted like this before. I pulled my legs into the chair and hugged them.

"Answer me, you idiot!" hissed Winifred.

"No, Winnie," said Sarah.

Winifred released her grip on her, which knocked Sarah over. She ran to the closet, once again applied her cloak and grabbed her broomstick. She flung her hand outwards, and the door blew open. She stopped before me, and glared into my eyes, her teeth bared. She then bolted out the door, and was gone.

I looked at Mary. "What did I do, Mary?" I asked. She was busy helping Sarah up.

"I don't know, dear," she said softly. She began wiping dust off Sarah's shoulders. She pushed her mouth to one side. "Winnie can be very tempermental."

Sarah began arranging her hair the way she liked it.

What was I supposed to do? Should I run? Should I stand up to Winifred? Well, actually, standing up to Winifred would be stupid because she had so many ways that she could murder me. Although, I don't think it would be murder because I was sure that no one would miss me. Something told me that she was going to kill me when she got back. So, I stood up from the chair, and gently picked Winifred's book up. I walked over to the stand, and set it down. It was true that it was a beautiful book, but in a creepy way. The eye remained closed- it only opens for Winifred, Sarah had told me.

"She cooes at it, as if it's a child," Mary had said to me once when Winifred had been out.

Sarah had been on the other side of the room, fiddling with her skirt, as she always did. "She loves that book more than she loves us," Sarah had said.

"Sarah!" hissed Mary. That had been the first time I had heard Mary raise her voice.

"Well, she does," argued Sarah in a childish tone. "I wish Mother had only kept us, and gotten rid of Winnie."

Mary had growled like a dog. "Mother would be very angry to hear you say that, Sarah! You know how much Winnie meant to her!"

I remembered this conversation. It sparked in an interest of the Sanderson's past in me. Since Winifred wasn't here, I decided to ask Mary and Sarah about it.

"Mary? Sarah?" I asked.

"Yes?" Mary replied.

I wasn't really that close with Mary, but ever since she found out that she couldn't eat my life force, she got used to me real quick. "Why did your mother prefer Winifred over you two?" I asked nosily.

Sarah and Mary looked at one another wearily. Their faces made it look as if they were wondering why I was asking questions. Because of the connection I had established with Sarah, she spoke up.

"Well, ever since we were little, Mother always had put Winnie first," she explained. "Right, Mary."

Mary nodded. "Winnie knew magic before we did. She could strike lightning before we even knew we were witches," Mary explained. Sarah sat in the chair, and Mary stood behind it, leaning onto it. "And of course, with Mother being Satan's mistress, Winnie became her one true beloved child. Truth be told, I had always known that if Winnie hadn't taught us magic, we'd be human, as you are."

I nodded an understanding nod. I knew what it was like being pushed away from your parents. It seemed that Mary and Sarah had grown up independent, as I had. I bet that they had doted on their independence, too, as I do.

Perhaps we aren't so different after all.


	6. It's Not True!

Later that afternoon, I guessed just before dusk, I was busy scrubbing a spot in the floor where Sarah had spilled potion. Winifred had left the potion she had me read aloud to in the cauldron, and when Sarah tried to empty it, she accidently spilled it. I wasn't mad, mistakes happened. So, I just scrubbed it. When I had started, Sarah and Mary had disappeared into the back room somewhere, leaving me alone, so I could sing.

Since I knew that Winifred was going to kill me, I decided to sing a special song.

"If I die young, bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses..."

Before I could finish the note on "roses", Winifred walked past me. I hadn't even heard the door open. She had her hood up, it's point protruding outward. She had her broom in her hand, her head down at the floor. At first I thought she was angry, but truthfully, she looked sad. Everything felt odd all of a sudden. A sad witch? How quizzical. Normally I would be nosey and try to find out what was bothering her, but I didn't want to test her.

Winifred crossed the room and unbuttoned her cloak. She tossed both cloak and broom into the closet, not caring where they landed in there. She then walked up to my backside. I didn't look at her, but I could feel her eyes on me. She stood for a few moments, her breathing intensifying with every exhale. She was angry, I knew she was. I couldn't be afraid. I had spent almost ten days with the wickedest witches that ever lived, I couldn't be afraid of her now.

Suddenly, before having time to react, she bolted over to me, and grabbed a fist full of my hair. She yanked my head back painfully. I cried out.

"Art thou a witch?" she asked me.

I held still. "Wha-what?" I asked softly.

Her voice lowered deeply, and she sounded like something straight out of hell. "Art thou a witch?" she asked again, very slowly. She tightened her grip on my hair.

"I- I don't think so," I stuttered.

She bore her teeth. Her small red lips tightened into an evil smile of some sort. "We shall see," she said.

Oh god! Not another relapse of earlier.

Just then, Mary and Sarah ran down the stairs.

"Winnie!" they both shouted in unison.

"Shut up, you thundering oafs! I'm trying to work!" Winifred shouted. She pulled my hair tighter. Was she trying to pull my hair out!? I cried out again. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sarah jump into Mary's arms.

"Don't hurt her, Winnie!" shouted Sarah.

Winifred then presumed to run a fingernail down my jawline, and trace my features. I didn't know what the hell she was doing, but it hurt really bad! She then began to whisper what sounded like a hex in gibberish.

Suddenly, Winifred's book slammed to the floor with a loud smack, and it burst open, the pages whipping all around. Winifred released her grip on me, and jolted backward. She put her hands up as if they had claws, and tilted her head. Ok, now I was confused.

"What!" exclaimed Winifred. "Book," she hissed, stomping a heel. "I did not call thee!"

The book continued to swirl it's pages. Front to back, back to front. I slowly began to stand up. Te next thing I knew, the book closed, and slid toward me. It slid past Winifred and skitted to a halt at my feet. I paused, and placed my hands to my temples. What was going on here?

Winifred threw her hands back and hissed loudly. "Purloin! Curses!"

I didn't dare move. I was afraid that Winifred would strike me, either with her hand or lightning. I have seen her do both to her sisters before in this past week. I was afraid that because I wasn't a witch, the lightning would wound me horridly.

Winifred then turned to me. She was enraged. Her face said it all. "GO. TO. BED. NOWWWWWW!" she screamed, her voice raising.

I began to tremble, and I quickly made my way over to my bed of sheets in the back corner, behind the tables, near the closet. I can't believe that she spoke to me as if she was my mother. I pushed the thought away as I curled up. From where I was laying down, when I looked through the table legs, I could see Winifred bent over a table, breathing hardly. Her hands were fists and by the way she was breathing, it made me wonder if she was in pain. She had her forehead pressed to the tabletop. Mary went to her side, and was stroking the back of her arms. Sarah made her way over to me, and she peered at me. I nodded to let her know that I was alright. When Sarah saw my nod, she scooted away to Mary's side.

"What be thy problem, Winnie?" Mary asked sweetly.

Winifred hissed, and took a few deep breaths. She then made a growling noise. "Tis true, Kaytrina is a witch," she said finally.

I swear my heart skipped beats. What. The. Hell? No! This couldn't be! I was born human, not a witch! Winifred must've thought that I was sleeping by now. I listened in.

Mary and Sarah gasped. "But...how?" Mary asked.

Winifred shook her big hair. "I have not a clue. But that ungodly book of mine went against me when I tried to stun the girl," she explained lowly.

Sarah then perked up. "Do you think she's...?" she trailed.

"I do not know!" hissed Winifred. "Truth be told, I do not WANT to know! I-" she swallowed. "We've left that behind us. And thou shalt leave it that way. Dost thou comprehend?"

Mary and Sarah both nodded.

"All I know is that the potion responded to her, and my book defended her."

Mary licked her lips. "Well, what shalt we do with her, Winnie?"

Winifred shook her head again. "We can't let go. She must stay with us, until we make her understand," she said.

I din't hear anything else Winifred said. I was too busy crying into my sheets.


	7. The Truth Understood

Later that night, after Winifred, Mary and Sarah had retired for the night, I sat awake, justing thinking about what Winifred had said. If I was a witch, where the hell had I gotten it from? As far as my family was concerned, witches weren't real. But indeed they had to be! Winifred was surely real, and so was Mary and Sarah! My head began whirling with thoughts. As I lay down, I examined my finger tips. What if I was a witch? Would Winifred lie about something she seemed so certain of? I hardly doubted so.

After what seemed like hours, I slowly began to rise from my sheets. Winifred had made the mistake of leaving her book out where I could explore it. I made my way towards it. I had the biggest urge to sing. I gently caressed the front of the book. When my fingers touched it, the eye slowly opened, and looked at me.

"In a dream, my love," I sang quietly, almost hearing Rockell's voice. "You will find my heart."

The eye studied me closely as I decided weather to open it or not. I looked toward the staircase. It was so quiet that I could hear Mary snoring. That told me that I was safe. I focused my attention on the book. I gently began stroking the books pages with my book made closed it's eye happily. It was almost like having a book-shaped monster in you hands. I was surprised that this thing couldn't talk. It seemed very soothed that I was stroking it. I then slowly slid my finger under the front cover. Before I could open it, the eye flew open. A hand pushed the cover back down. I recognized Winifred's nails. I jumped back.

"What art thou doing?" she asked lowly.

"I'm sorry, Winifred," I lowered my head. I pressed my tongue to the inside of my cheek. "I was just looking."

"Well," she scoffed in a high pitch. "Didn't thy mother ever teach thou to leave others things be?" there was a touch of anger in her voice.

I backed away from the book slowly. "I'm sorry, Winifred, for fondling your book. I'll go back to bed now."

She quickly thrashed out and grabbed my arm. "No. There's something we need to discuss."

I turned to look her in the face. A nearby candle illuminated only half of her. What could she want with me? She wanted to tell me that I was a witch, right? But I already knew her game. She couldn't convince me. I wasn't a witch!

"I'm not a witch!" I said lowly.

Winifred gritted her teeth. "But thou art," she said.

I pulled away from her. No! I didn't believe her!

"Dost thou realize how powerful thy truly is?" Winifred asked. "It was your first time casting a spell and even my book responded. I haven't see such powerful magic in such a young being before." She seemed to be getting evilly excited.

"I was not casting magic," I warned. Truthfully, I think my anger could bite as hard as her's could. But I would avoid that at all costs. Although I think her crazy, she's still an ally. I still owed her respect. "Winifred, I'm not a witch, I'm sorry."

Winifred looked disappointed. "Someday thee shall see," was all she replied.

The next thing I knew, my name was said.

"Kaytrina."

Winifred and I turned. Sarah stood in the doorway, wearing a white nightgown wit ruffled cuffs and a ruffles collar. She looked strangely pretty.

"Winnie wouldn't lie, Kaytrina," Sarah explained softly. "Not about something like this."

Winifred pressed her large teeth to her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes. She gave me an "I told you so" look. Dear god I hope they wouldn't get Mary involved, too. I stopped and thought. Sarah had been so nice to me. And she was defending Winifred's theory. Perhaps I would juts have to believe them. Although, I couldn't believe it fully without solid proof. Winifred would have to prove it to me...somehow.

I sighed, and stepped away from Winifred. I approached the nearest window and stared out. It was rather dark, the treetops swayed in the wind. I suddenly had an urge to step out into the cool air. I could picture myself flying someday.

"Alright," I said deeply. "If I'm a witch_-"

"Yes?" asked Winifred.

I turned to face them. "Then thou must prove it."


	8. The Day's Plans

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I love you guys! You do realize that Kate is obsessed with music, right? So, she will hum, sing and think about songs a lot. Just making sure XD

After a long night of pacing and hidden emotions that seemed to find me all at once, by the time the sun had come up, it seemed that Winifred and Sarah were anxious. I had no idea what about. All I knew was that they were overly-excited- in an evil way, that is- about something to do with me. Ever since Winifred had caught me looking at her book, her and Sarah refused to go to bed. They sat up all night, discussing on how they could prove to me that I was a witch. I hoped that they would think of something good, for it would take more than an assumption to convince me anything. I wasn't the type of teenager to dwell on assumptions. There had to be true, solid proof.

I was laying on my sheets, trying to sleep, but the sound of Winifred and Sarah's voices kept me from doing so. I even tried to play a lullaby in my head, that didn't work, either. So, I lay down, my hands folded beneath my head for a pillow, my eyed open tiredly. Winifred and Sarah sat around the cauldron, which now had a gold potion bubbling within it, and they were drinking tea.

"Perhaps there is a potion that will do Kaytrina justice," Sarah offered. She sipped her tea.

Winifred pursed her lips wonderingly. "Perhaps," she agreed, sipping her tea.

It was odd. The way they sat around with each other, sipping tea, reminded me of what elderly English ladies would do. But then I thought, they_ were_ elderly English ladies. Sarah had told me that they were hanged in 1693, near the end of the notorious Salem Witch Trials. I had written a report on the trials back in eighth grade, when I still lived in Virginia. If only I had known these three back then! They totally could've helped me.

They had to be English, too, on account of Winifred's accent. Although, the other two seemed to have lost their fluent old English, both accent and enunciation. Oh well, even though they still used "thy" and "thou", I could still understand them. I actually thought it was kind of neat how they talked. If I really was a witch, I would take it upon myself to learn to speak in that manner.

"I wonder if she can fly," Sarah stated childishly.

"Of course she can, you dolt! But she is not ready. She must learn the basics." Winifred looked a tad annoyed.

Sarah then turned and looked over her shoulder. There was a tea pot sitting on top of the old wood stove. She grinned. She stuck an index finger erectly in the air, and, looking at the pot, gestured it for it to come to her. The pot coughed up a puff of smoke, then, began to rise.

Slowly, I sat up from my bed. I tilted my head awkwardly.

The pot floated over to Sarah. "Ahhhh," she cooed.

She stuck out her cup, and the pot tilted itself. Tea began pouring itself in the cup. Sarah giggled as if she were a child. "Thank you, that is enough," she said softly to it. Almost as if the pot could understand her, it stopped pouring. The pot then made it's way back to the wood stove, and set itself down.

Winifred rolled her eyes. "Thy lazy bafoon! Must thou use magic for everything?" she asked, now very annoyed.

Just then, the sound of footsteps could be heard from upstairs. Mary must have been moving around up there. I took it that she actually took the time to get dressed before coming downstairs, unlike Winifred and Sarah, who both still sat in their night slips.

Winifred were still unaware that I was awake. I listened in intently.

"Winnie, dost thou think that Kaytrina is who I think she is?" Sarah asked nosily.

Winifred stared at her evilly for a moment, as if she hadn't wanted her to bring the topic up. She sighed, and leaned back in her chair. She exhaled heavily. "Oh, Sarah," she said, softening her tone. "Thou knows that I'd give anything for her to be." She fiddled with the spoon that she stirred her tea with.

Who did they think I was? I was now utterly confused.

Just then, Mary walked in from the staircase. She moved across the room, grabbed a cup of tea, and walked toward them.

"Good morning to thee," she greeted oddly. She used her magic to make a chair poof out of nowhere next to Winifred. She sat down and took a sip of tea. "Where is Kaytrina?"

That was my cue! I wanted to get up, anyway. I stood up, and stretched. I yawned loudly. As soon as I woke, Winifred the witch came back out.

"Ah, there you are, child," hissed Winifred. "Come hither."

I took it that she wanted to inform me of the days activities. I walked to her side. She did nothing but handed me her tea cup.

"More," she instructed.

Ah, I see how it is! Although there was a possibility of me being a witch, I was still Winifred's little slave. I walked over to the tea pot and began pouring her some.

"I have decided that thou's powers shalt be tested," she said to me, while examining one of her rings. "After all, I can't have a white witch living in my household."

As I poured tea, I arched a brow. I gulped silently. What if I did end up being a white witch? I would end up back on the streets for sure. I bit my lower lip. I then escorted Winifred's tea back to her.

She took it from me and sipped it. "Thou will begin with the basics, such as learning to control magic. And Mary shalt teach you how to use your magic as an everyday resource. And when the time arrives, Sarah shalt teach you to fly. But that is a bit far ahead." She turned her head and looked up at me. "Dost thou comprehend?"

I nodded. "Yes, Winifred."

"Good." She quickly finished her tea, but never loosing her lady-like air, and stood up. "I have things I have to accomplish today. Sarah, Mary, I leave thou in charge while I am gone." She crossed the room and set her tea cup next to the washbasin on the table her book was on. She stroked the books cover. "Be a good book for Aunt Mary and Aunt Sarah," she cooed to it. "Mummy will be home very soon." When she was done she retrieved her cloak and her broom. She stopped at the door. "Mary!"

"Yes, Winnie?" said Mary from her chair.

"I want thou to teach her the basics of levitating objects."

Mary nodded.

Winifred then disappeared out the door, and was gone.

I stood awkwardly before the two. They did nothing but stare. Sarah broke the awkward silence.

"Well, we shalt do as Winnie says, and teach Kaytrina how to do magic," she said happily. She bound over to me, grabbed my wrist, and began leading me toward the door. Mary began laughing hysterically as she followed. What have I gotten myself into?


	9. Flying Figurines and Intertwining Colors

I allowed Sarah to drag me outside. Mary followed, carrying a small glass figurine of Satan. She set it on the stump I had stood on before. She giggled and pressed her tongue to her chin. Sarah stood beside her, clapping her hands and jumping happily.

"Now," said Mary, rolling up her sleeves. "Like this." She squinted her eyes, crunched her nose up, and stuck her hands out. She began swirling her fingers. She didn't even have to recite a spell or anything, the figurine began to float. I stared, amazed. She made the figurine twist and turn in every direction as it floated. She even made it fly. It flew through the tree tops and everything, and it returned to her.

"Master loves to fly," Mary teased.

Sarah stuck out her tongue, and began to dance around.

I had a feeling that I would have a hard time with the magic, I didn't know why. I had to see if it even worked first. If it did, I would be heavily surprised. I watched happily as Mary and Sarah joked with one another. I found some joy in these two, and in Winifred a little as well. I enjoyed watching Sarah and Mary laugh with one another. Mary placed the figurine back on the stump.

"Now, you try," she said happily.

Sarah took me by the shoulders and inched me up to the stump. She tapped my cuffs, signaling me to roll up my sleeves. I did.

Mary held her hands up, fingers extended. She curled them downward. I copied her. She nodded. I felt awkward, attempting magic, something I had never done before. Something that I never thought existed. Sarah came to my side, and made me separate my legs a little. Perhaps to keep the magic flow stable.

"Now. Think: float," instructed Mary.

I focused my eyes on the figurine. With my imagination, I pierced it's eyes, although it was simply made of glass. I took it that thought was behind all magic, so, with my mind, I tried to picture the figurine rising. But whenever I blinked, it was still on the stump. With all my might, I tried to surge my energy- and whatever magic I could find deep within- into my hands. It seemed as if I could feel the energy surge into my hands, and begin to build up. My eyes began to get sore, and my fingers began to tingle. I stared th figurine down. _Come on, you piece of glass junk_, I thought. _Float!_

Suddenly, the figurine began to shake. I focused harder. From the corner of my eye, I could see Mary make two fists of hope, and I saw Sarah's eyes start to get big. They were expecting something amazing. I didn't really get them.

The figurine began to tremble violently. For a moment there, I thought it would burst. But as I kept focused, the base slowly began to ascend upward. When I made it ascend about an inch, my wrists began to become agonizingly painful. I cried out and snapped back. I hit the ground on my knees. The sound of the glass figuring falling onto the stump could be heard. My hands felt like they were on fire. And my forehead began to burn. When I closed my eyes, I could see tow different color energies begin to swirl around one another, creating what looked like a DNA spiral. The two energies were blue and white. Although they were only in my mind, they were quite beautiful to look at. I curled my fingers painfully.

I felt Sara grab my shoulders. "Kaytrina? Art thou alright?"

"Yeah," I replied, panting.

"What did thou see?" Mary asked.

I panted. "I saw two colors...intertwining."

Mary gasped. "Sarah! Her third eye hath been opened!" she said excitedly.

I slowly got to my feet. "My what?" I asked.

"Thou's third eye. It means that thou hath discovered the true magic within," Mary stated. She shook her fists excitedly. "Can thou try again?" she asked.

Truthfully, I didn't know if I could. It seemed that it had drained what little energy I had left. But I couldn't let Sarah and Mary down. They seemed to believe in me a little too much. But their excitement seemed to light a spark in me that I had never had before. So, I readied myself. I stuck my hand outward and curled my fingers.

The most phenomenal thing happened. My fingertips began to glow a pinkish color. As I focused, and brought the thoughts to me, the figurine ascended without ease. It lifted quickly, and when I held still, it hovered. I felt utterly amazing. I suddenly felt a purge of energy fill me, and I felt as if I could do anything. As Mary had done, I made the figurine dance across the air. When I got the hang of it I made it fly between branches and once I made it fly towards Sarah. She squealed and jumped back. When I had figured out how to set it down without dropping it, I did, and I turned to Mary.

Before I could speak, the sound of someone slowly clapping could be heard. At first, I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Finally, I looked up. Why, it was Winifred. She was hovering on her broom above us. Slowly, she began to descend.

"Well done, child!" she half-cheered. She landed on the ground. "How dost thou feel? Now that I hath been proved right?"

Truthfully, I felt pretty good.

I was a witch.


	10. Secrets

Winifred climbed down from the sky, inch by inch, until she was hovering right before me. She looked comfortable on her broom. She sat up, and set her hands on her knees as she hovered. For once I actually noticed the elegant turquoise her eyes were. She had been closer to me than this before, and I now only noticed her eyes. They were a beautiful color.

"How dost thou feel, hmmm?" she asked highly.

I curled my fingers and wiggled them playfully. "I feel wonderful," I replied happily.

Mary and Sarah both smiled, then, began to cheer in unison. They looped arms and began to dance happily. "Thou is a Sanderson! Thou is a Sanderson!" they cheered.

Winifred decided to come down. She lowered herself as close to the ground as she could, she bent backward, removed the broom from underneath her, and she gracefully touched dirt. She was quite graceful, for a witch. "Hush, you two!" she hissed at Mary and Sarah. "She may be a witch, but she's not a Sanderson."

They stopped dead and looked at her funny. Of course I wasn't a Sanderson, their family was much too old to have modern ties. I shook my head. Winifred pushed the hood of her cloak off her head and stepped up to me. She put her fingers to her chin. "Hmmmmm," she went, beginning to circle me. I began to feel like she was the hunter and I was the prey. She began to pluck at my sweatshirt, which was dirty and smelled of must. "Well, thou art a witch, but thou sure dost not dress as one." She circled me a few times, then faced Sarah. "Take Kaytrina upstairs and find her something more suitable to wear."

A glowing smile lit up Sarah's face. She liked dress up, I guessed, for when Winifred said that, Sarah quickly snatched up my wrist, and half-dragged me into the cottage. She took me upstairs into the sleeping quarters. I had never been up there before. It was very interesting. Each sister had their own bed, with quits the colors of their gowns. Winifred's was green, Mary's was red, and Sarah's was purple. In the corner of the room, next to a mirror, was a huge oak trunk. I could tell that it had some age to it. It looked as if it was about to rot and fall apart. Sarah didn't care, though, she began rummaging through material. She thrashed dresses alike over her shoulders, and they flew all over the room.

"A-ha!" she cheered. She stood up, trailing something bright pink in her hands. "Try this," she said, throwing it to me.

Oh, lord! It was a bright pink dress with bows all over it. I felt insulted. I may have been a girl, but I was too much a tomboy for a pink dress. I didn't say anything, though. Sarah handed me a pair of her clean knickers.

"Now, get dressed. Thou shalt come down when she is finished," she said happily, before disappearing down the stairs.

I held the dress up, and examined it. I truthfully didn't feel comfortable about this. I preferred jeans and a sweater. If only I knew how to use my magic more, I could use it to improve this dress. But anyway, I slid into the thing, only to discover that it fit perfectly. Well, the skirt was much too poofy, but the bodice fit nicely. The knickers felt a little too big, but I think that's how they're supposed to be. I had no shoes except for my hiking boots. I would look like the odd one out, anyway.

Slowly, I made my way downstairs.

When I dismounted the staircase, the cottage fell silent. Winifred's face went straight, Mary's jaw fell agape, and Sarah was smiling childishly. Did I really look like that much of a goof?

Winifred smacked her palm to her forehead. "Sarah, she can't go out in that!" she hissed.

Go out? Where were we going?

"I'm sorry, Winnie, but 'tis all I had," said Sarah.

Mary began to giggle.

Winifred's face told me that she was fed up with her sister's stupidity. She marched over to me, grabbed the dress, and yanked it over my head. I stood there in knickers, a cold draft hitting my bare ankles. Although it was very warm for a November day. Winifred tossed the dress in the corner, and stared down at my body. She snapped her fingers, then walked off. I threw my arms around myself. The knickers may have covered me up, but it was still awkward.

Winifred returned with something in her hand. I didn't have time to see what it was because she whirled me around. She threw something over my head, and wrapped it around my waist. I looked down, and recognized the line of hooks traveling up the front.

It was a corset.

Quickly, like I had seen in movies, as Winifred collected the laces, I inhaled and sucked it in. She pulled them tightly, and I could feel every little jerk as she began to tie them. When she was done, she smacked me on my back, and stepped away from me. I exhaled quickly, gasping for air. The corset was restricting my breasts, what little ones I had.

"Thou shalt get used to it," said Winifred, walking toward the door. "Come, sisters. Come, Kaytrina. Tis time we exploit this odd weather," she said with a grand tone. Before she walked out the door, she swished a hand, and a picnic basket appeared within her grasp.

A picnic! We were going on a picnic! I was much too surprised and happy to care that I marched outside wearing nothing but old-fashioned underwear. Winifred circled her way to the back of the cottage, where there was an opening in the trees.

Mary, Sarah, and I followed Winifred down a wooded path in the woods. It was beautiful. The autumn leaves falling down, just to be crunched beneath our feet. The autumn breeze blew softly, gently blowing the end of my hair off my shoulders. Mary and Sarah stuck to my sides as we followed Winifred, who walked in front of us, her hood up, nose in the air.

I leaned over to Sarah. "Where is she taking us?" I asked.

"The meadow! The meadow!" Sarah cheered. She began to dance around us as we walked.

"The meadow?" I whispered to Mary.

Mary nodded, and got closer to me so she could whisper in my ear. Sarah began dancing up toward Winifred. Mary grabbed my shoulder, signaling for me to slow down. I slowed to a mere creep, while Winifred and Sarah got farther from us.

"Did I ever tell thee about Billy Butcherson?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"Well," she said, pulling me close she wouldn't have to whisper too loud. "Billy was Winnie's lover at one time." With that statement, I looked at Winifred's walking figure awkwardly. Ok, Mary, that's something I truly didn't need to know! She continued. "They used to meet one another at the meadow for 'quality time'," she said, air quoting "quality time."

"Really?" I asked, perplexed.

She nodded. "That was, until Winnie discovered Sarah in Billy's bed. It angered her so much, that she vowed to never love another living creature again, good or evil," Mary explained. She sighed. "But I know she loves us."

I began to ponder hard. Perhaps that's why Sarah acted like such an idiot. And perhaps why Winifred was always in a stale mood. I would have to explore into this subject more.

Mary and I followed behind Winifred and Sarah as the wooded path opened. The air suddenly became a lot warmer. As we exited, rather than being surrounded by beautiful fall colors, clashing with horrid dead trees, we were surrounded in nothing but green. The path had opened up into a lush green field, which a single line of old fashioned worm-fencing ran through the middle. On the other side, the field was coated in small white flowers. I couldn't believe it. It was so lush, so summer-like, that I swear I had just walked into a world of magic. I had never seen anything so phenomenal in my life, even more phenomenal that the witches or the magic they- we- possessed.

"Wow!" I said loudly. "Look at this place!"

"Isn't it truly magical?" Sarah asked happily. She ran to my side, and took my hand adoringly. "Come, Kaytrina, let us go to the spring."

I quirked a brow. "The spring?" I asked.

Sarah nodded. "Yes. Over there."

Although the meadow was so beautiful, I didn't see a spring anywhere. I pulled loose from Sarah, and walked forward a bit. There was a small slope. I climbed it, and finally knew what Sarah was talking about. There, in the center of the meadow was a single willow tree. And sure enough, underneath it, was a small body of water. I wouldn't exactly call it a spring, more like a small pond, but the Sanderson's could call it whatever they wanted. All I knew was that something good would come out of this day.


	11. Winifred's Meadow

**A/N: Guest and SkullGauddess, I freaking love you guys! Thank you so much!**

I came to find out that the visit to the meadow brought out something in all of us, especially Winifred. We began our afternoon from the cottage with the picnic. I have no idea what kind of food it was, and it looked strange, but in all, it tasted very delicious. I hadn't the nerve to ask what it was, I just ate it.

We sat on a quilt that Mary conjured up. I didn't know that we could conjure up items as well as self-defense mechanisms such as lightning. Sarah sat beside me, teaching me how to use the word "thy" properly.

"Kaytrina, thou hath a frog in thy throat!" she teased. We both giggled. Winifred and Mary watched intently. "Now you try."

I stopped giggling and rubbed my hands together, thinking of an example. I scanned the pond before us. It was crystal clear. I couldn't see any fish, which upset me a little because I loved animals. I would never let the Sanderson's find that out, though. I was afraid of what they would say if they ever did find that out. I looked for an example for a good usage of "thy." I glanced over at Winifred, who was now chomping huge bites out of an apple. It must be hard to chew with teeth like hers.

"Winifred," I said. She looked at me oddly. "I find the color of thy hair most ravishing," I said proudly. I had always loved red hair.

Mary and Sarah began to giggle. Winifred eyed me curiously, half-smiled, nodded her head, then, averted her gaze. I looked at Sarah. "Did I use it right?" I asked, actually concerned about my grammar for once. I never cared about my grammar much in school, but when it came to the Sandersons, I was all for it.

"Yes, thou hast used it right," she replied. Sarah then got up and walked over to the pond. She took one good look down into the water, and reached for the hooks on her dress. She soon stood before us in her knickers.

"Sarah!" hissed Winifred. "What art thou doing?" Winifred almost choked on her apple.

Sarah went up on her tip-toes, and did a knock-off ballet move. "This," she replied. She then ran and leaped into the water. It splashed all the way up to us, and coated Winifred's dress. Winifred looked angered.

"Uh-oh," I muttered quietly.

Mary began to scream.

"Shut up, you fool!" hissed Winifred. "It is but water!"

Mary gulped loudly. "Most refreshing," she commented awkwardly.

Sarah swam over to us and leaned up on the bank. "Sisters, thou shalt join me?" she asked. She smiled in Winifred's direction.

Mary stood up. "I shalt," she said.

I wanted more than anything to get clean, and that water looked heavenly. I stood up. "Why not!" I remarked excitedly.

"Winnie?" Sarah asked in a high tone.

"No," Winifred stated plainly. She got up, and began walking away from us. Mary and I looked at each other questioningly. We watched as Winifred strode her way to the opposite side of the pond. From where we stood she looked like nothing but a green and orange blob. I glanced at Mary.

"Who spit in her potion?" I asked.

Mary looked a little downcast. "Coming here hurts her," she explained. She bit her bottom lip nervously. "It reminds her of Billy." Mary then looked down at Sarah, a touch of anger in her face. "I don't know why she keeps bringing us back here."

I knew from that comment that Winifred Sanderson indeed had a heart. She was just very careful of who she allowed to take part of it. She was like me in a way. Unsure of strangers. It must have took a lot for her to even consider liking me. I know it took me a bit to come to like her. By the time I was done thinking those thoughts, I had taken off my boots and socks, and peeled out of my corset somehow.

There was a rock on the side of the pon. I stood on it. "Behold!" I teased. "The all-powerful Kaytrina Bleak." And with that, I cannon-balled into the water.

As I began to sink, I noticed that the water was so clear, I could see all way across the pond. It had to be the most beautiful water I had ever been in. In truth, I liked it better than taking a shower. I was wet everywhere, instead of just parts.

I swam up to the top, and flung my head backward, removing the hair that was stuck to my face. Mary and Sarah began giggling. I swam over to Sarah, who was intently watching Mary. Mary stood on the bank, her toes hanging off. Sarah was trying to coax her to jump in. I glanced in Winifred's direction. She was on her knees, washing her hands in the water. Every once in a while she'd splash water on her face and rub it off. Was she afraid of the water?

"Come on, Mary!" hissed Sarah. "Just get in!"

Mary swiped her mouth to the side. She then grinned, plugged her nose, and jumped. Because she was the biggest of all of us, the pond seemed to shake violently when she hit the water, and it flailed Sarah and I around like a storm. I began to laugh as I tried to stay above water. When Mary's head appeared from underwater, she was grinning. I was surprised, her hair had not fallen out. I watched as Sarah swam over to Mary and playfully began to splash her. I joined in and soon we were all laughing as if we had known each other for hundreds of years. We played and played and played until we got so tired, we decided to climb out and dry off.

We then lay in the sun on the quilt, just watching the clouds. I was tracing over their shapes with my eyes. One looked like a witch hat so much it was ridiculous. It made me smile. I found myself drifting to sleep. Mary and Sarah had already fallen asleep, on account of their snoring. I was just about to close my eyes, when something slammed into my face.

I jerked and sat up. Something was blocking the sun from my face. I looked up. t first I couldn't tell what it was, then it began to take form. Why, it was Winifred. She was standing over me.

"Winifred," I said.

"Get up,"she instructed.

I did so, and pretended to wipe dirt off the front of my corset. Winifred walked over to the opposite side of the tree and sat down, her back pressed against it. "Come here." I walked over to her and sat across from her, so I could look her in the eyes as she talked to me. "Now," she said highly, smoothing her skirt down. "Since we hath discovered your magical abilities. I suggest you know the truth about us."


	12. Fire

I looked at Winifred questioningly. "Us?" I asked, my left brow ascending up my forehead.

"Us. The Sanderson Sisters," she replied haughtily.

I nodded. Perhaps she was about to tell me who Sarah thought I was. Or perhaps their whole background, either way I didn't care. Truthfully, I sort of thought Winifred as an inspiration to me. I knew that it was her who could influence my soon-to-be-expanding magical powers the most. Sarah and Mary would have an impact, but nothing like Winifred. I could just imagine what the eldest Sanderson Sister could teach me. So, I nodded, and got comfortable so I could listen to her.

She cleared her throat. "Well," she said. She paused, as if she didn't know where to begin. Her voice was low, and sounded like that of an old lady. "I don't know if Mary hath mentioned this or not, but our mother was the mistress of Satan."

I wanted to gasp so badly, but somehow I knew that it would offend her. Mary had mentioned it, but Winifred was admitting it herself. Satan was Winifred's father! I folded my hands, rested my chin on them, and gave her every little strand of attention I had.

"What I am trying to say is that Satan is our father, thus the fact that we're witches," said Winifred plainly. I nodded. She was acting strange. She made no attempt whatsoever to use her usual witch language.

Just then, in the corner of my eye, I swear to god that I saw something black dash through the trees. My head snapped in the direction. I saw nothing. So what? I was seeing things now?

"What be thy matter?" Winifred asked.

"I swear I just saw something," I said quickly. "Over there," I said, pointing.

Winifred quickly got her feet under her. And slowly, with her arms behind her, holding onto the tree trunk, she slid upward into a standing position. She kept her head turned, and looked curiously at the spot I had saw that black thing. Without really contemplating what I was doing, I began to walk toward the trees. I took seven or eight steps and I stopped. Behind me, I heard the sound of Mary yawning. It was followed by the sound of Sarah asking us what was going on.

"What dost thou see, Kaytrina?" asked Winifred shrilly.

Truthfully, my sense of smell began to altar, and all I could smell was smoke. But there was none in sight whatsoever. I technically was a witch now. Could witches smell random things like this? Unsure of myself, I decided not to mention it. I had a feeling that it would somehow doubt Winifred about my powers.

"Kaytrina?" Sarah asked in a squeaky tone.

"Hush, Sarah, thy fool!" hissed Winifred quietly. "She is trying to concentrate."

Someone made their way slowly up behind me. It was Winifred. I could tell by the smell of brewed potion that she always emitted when near. It wasn't a bad scent, it smelled herbal and natural, but it was rather strong. But it was not quite strong enough to cover up the scent of thick smoke. If I could smell it, why could I not see it anywhere? It was so strong that I swore that there was a hug bonfire right under my nose.

"What be wrong, child?" Winifred asked.

I decided that it would be best if I told her. "I smell smoke," I explained slowly. "And a lot of it."

Winifred pursed her lips. "Mary!" she shouted, although Mary was right behind her.

"Yes, coming, Winnie," Mary stuttered.

Winifred grabbed us both by the arms, and stood us side-by-side. "Sniff the air, Mary. Tell me what thou smells."

Like I had seen her do on the first day I had met her, Mary stuck her nose in the air, and like a dog, began to sniff heavily. Winifred stood at her side, her front teeth protruding from her upper lip, watching closely, as if she had Mary on a treasure hunt or something. Mary sniffed for a few moments, then, dropped her head in defeat.

"I cannot smell anything, Winnie. There be no children around."

Winifred tensed, and quickly turned to me. "How strong is the smoke thy smells?" she asked, creating two fists.

I sniffed the air, actually putting forth an effort. I regretted putting forth anything, for the scent stung my nostrils so bad that I struggled to breathe. I began to cough. Winifred pressed a nail to her temple and crossed her arms. She looked as if she was trying to remember something. Before I could stop my coughing, Winifred's eyes grew two sizes, and began to bulge out of her head. The next thing I knew, she was running across the meadow toward the woods.

"Winnie, wait!" screamed Sarah, as she bolted after her.

"The cottage! The cottage!" screamed Winifred.

Mary and I glanced at one another, before we bound after them. As we were dashing through the woods, it occurred to me that Winifred had forgotten her picnic basket. I would come back and get it for her later, only after I figured out weather or not it was the Sanderson's cottage that I could smell.

I had never seen a woman Winifred's age run so fast, even with those pointed boots on. I was surprised that they all could outrun me, even Mary. I had become decently fast over the years, I guess running from my mother had been good practice. But it still irked me that women who were over three hundred could outrun me. I ran as fast as I could. The other three had dresses to hold up, and I didn't. But by the time the cottage came into view, I was so tired that I was sure that my ankles would detach themselves from the rest of me. We stopped at the front, and I fell to the ground to catch my breath.

Winifred began to screech loudly. I quickly scrambled to my feet. Sure enough, smoke was poring from an open window in the cottage. I watched in awe as Winifred charged in. Were these women crazy? Charging into a cottage infused with flames, and Winifred with that hairdo! It would catch fire easily.

Mary and Sarah stood on the front stoop, screaming into the darkness of the cottage for Winifred to come out. They actually were scared for their abusive elder sisters life?

Duh! If I had an older sister, and she ever did that, I'd be scared to. I couldn't let Winifred get burnt. Before I even thought of thinking up a plan, I barged past Mary and Sarah. I felt hands on my arm as I began to enter. I looked over my shoulder. Sarah had hold of my arm, and was looking at me with big puppy dog eyes.

"Thou shant go in there!" she shouted.

"I hath to put the fire out!" I shouted at her. I ripped away from her grip, and I pushed through.

A huge cloud of black smoke smothered me. I couldn't help myself but cough again. My lungs weren't all that great, never had been. I suspect that it was living in the same house with pot smokers my whole life. And you'd think that I'd be used to it now. I held my breath as I pushed through. As the smoke surrounded me, I gagged. It blurred my vision. I could not see Winifred anywhere. I couldn't see three feet in front of me. I began to feel my way around. By using my hands, I could make out that I was in front of a wall. Somewhere in the could of smoke I could hear Winifred.

"Damn!" she hissed.

I began walking toward the sound. I felt rather brave, but perhaps that this would get me on even better terms with Winifred. As I felt my way down the wall, my hands touched something. I began examining it with my index fingers. Why, it was a windowsill.

"BOOOOKKKKKKK!" I heard Winifred scream terrifyingly. By her tone, I could tell that she was distressed , and , of course, looking for her book rather than worrying about the fire.

Swiftly, I pulled myself up onto the windowsill, and pressed my back against the glass. I had to get this fire put out quickly before someone in town saw the smoke and called 911. If someone did, the Sanderson's would be discovered. Then who knows what would happen! I gripped the window pain. At this very moment, to tell the bare truth, I actually was more worried about myself, now that I had charged in here like a headstrong teenager. Wait! I was headstrong teenager!

I began to scan the room quickly, looking for something, anything that could help me save the Sanderson's cottage from being completely consumed. A thought made me remember that this had been a museum before I had brought them back. One word hit me: Sprinkler. I averted my gaze to the left. There, through the smoke, I could see the sprinkler. I grabbed onto a rafter, pulled myself up, and began inching toward it. But I had nothing to set it off. I began to think hard. I didn't have a lighter, and the smoke wasn't thick enough where I was to set it off. I had to improvise. I was sure that there was a spell that could make fire shoot from my palms- there was a spell for everything, right- but I had not the time to be practicing magic.

Then, it struck me. I didn't need to set it off. I bit my bottom lip as I grabbed onto the pipe to straighten myself so I wouldn't fall. As Mary had shown me, I curled my fingers. I stepped heavily and made sure that I would not lose balance.

I began to slow my breathing down. It was difficult because of the smokey smell, but I had to. Below, I could see Winifred scrambling around, calling her book. I thought of how upset my new friends would be if they lost their cottage. I just couldn't let it burn.

I began to relax myself, and feel the magic travel through my veins. When I closed my eyes, I saw the same two intertwining colors, and my fingertips began to tingle. When I knew I was ready, I used my eyes to lock onto the end of the sprinkler. The harder I thought, the more violently it began to shake. Soon, the top popped off and hit the floor with a ting. Winifred had been standing right below me, and had just enough time to look upward before a huge rush of water crashed down upon her. I felt so bad about it, because she began to scream and it knocked her down, but, the water began to rush straight toward the flames, extinguishing them without ease.

Before the cottage became flooded, I quickly grabbed a rag I had forgotten where I had found, and I shoved it into the hole, causing the water flow to stop. I looked down, Winifred lay, soaked with water, on her face. I could tell by the look on her face when she sat up that I was in horrid trouble.


	13. What Lies in the Woods

And in horrid trouble I was, indeed. Winifred growled lowly. As she stood up, water drops made their way down the end of her nose. They then presumed to fall down upon her dress, as if it wasn't wet enough already. Mary and Sarah bolted in. They had their arms around one another awkwardly. I was sure that they had been frightened by the fire.

I stayed on the rafter, waiting silently for Winifred to collect her wits. Slowly, she looked around, as if looking for something. I knew she couldn't be looking for me, for she had known that I was on the rafter. Mary and Sarah helped her up. As I climbed down, Mary wrapped her in a towel.

"My book," hissed Winifred. "Where is my book?"

The book had fallen and landed near the sheets that I slept on. I picked it up gracefully and I took it to her. She accepted it when I handed it to her. She collected it in her arms, and began rocking it as if it were a child. "Book," she cooed, hugging it to her. She looked at me with big eyes. "And you," she said lowly.

Sarah grabbed hold of Mary.

"Yes?" I asked. I prayed she wouldn't hit me.

"You...art not so bad after all," she finally finished.

Slowly, I began to loosen my tensed muscles. I had been sure that she was going to hit me. The fact that she was headed opposite of that thought made me glad. I don't know what I'd ever do if Winifred ever hit me.

"Well," I said slowly. "I thank thee."

Mary looked at me quizzically. She had her head tilted, her tongue sticking out, as if she was trying to read me like one reads a romance novel. "I hath never heard of such a thing, Winnie," she said.

Winifred bore her front teeth, pressing them down on her bottom lip. "What?" she asked.

"A witch that can smell fire," Mary said, making her way over to me. She picked up my arm and examined my skin. She ran her fingers over my features and my jawline. I stood, a little creeped out. My skin tingled as her finger made its way down the bridge of my nose. What exactly was she doing? Was she really this much of a hands-on person? "I can't see to figure her out, Winnie."

Winifred looked annoyed. "Thou dost not need to explore her!" she hissed. "We shalt find things out as we progress in the magic process," she said, rolling her eyes. Winifred then crossed the room and set her book on the stand. "Such a good book," she said highly. She then whirled around quickly. She looked straight at me. "Thou must learn how to control magic and hath more practice with it. Then, if thou is ready, I personally shalt teach thee to fly."

Truthfully, I loved every part of being a witch, although I have only experienced very little of it. I couldn't wait to fly with the Sanderson's. I wanted nothing more. I could imagine it. Me. Sitting on a broom, soaring over Salem by night, brewing potions by day. The only thing I was sure about was that I could smell fire, and from miles away. I hope that wold be a good asset to Winifred. I have no idea why, but I felt obligated to please her. Perhaps it was because she was the eldest.

I was much too tired to think about magic at the moment, so, I decided to take a nap. Jut as I was about to lay down, my foot stepped on my sheets, which were soaking wet. I shook my head, and balled them up in my hands, and walked outside with them. The Sanderson's didn't have a clothesline, so I had to hang my sheets off of tree branches. Odd, I know, but I had to make do.

I then found myself scrounging for something to do as I circled the cottage. Mary and Sarah were helping Winifred get dried off enough so she would be comfortable. I had no idea what we were going to do about the wetness of the cottage floor. I suspected that Winifred had a spell that could dry it; Winifred had a spell for everything. I took a seat at the small table, candles burning tranquilly on it. I sighed and leaned back. I watched as Sarah, Mary and Winifred pondered about what to do. Perhaps I could do something. I had the magic, I just didn't know how to use it properly. I knew that I would have to rely on the Sanderson sister's at all costs to teach me.

"I wonder what set the fire," said Winifred, inspecting every candle that was on the first floor.

"I don't know, Winnie," said Sarah, examining everything.

I sighed and walked outside. I knew that I had just come in, but I loved it outside. I never was allowed outside much when I still lived with the Bleaks. They were no longer my parents. At least, I didn't consider them my parents anymore. I walked outside once more, the cool November breeze hitting my skin.

I began to unintentionally make my way around the back of the house. I had just rounded the corner, when the smell of gasoline stung my nostrils. I paused, and began to sniff. It was coming from the west. I followed it.

The smell led me about two miles into the woods. It was stronger with every step forward I took. Soon, it was so strong that I had to pinch my nose shut. It was almost gagging me. I was standing in a circle of pine trees, with a group of huge boulders piled to my left. Up above, about twenty miles away, I could see the form of a cliff. It was half-concealed by the tree tops. I began exploring the area. Suddenly, my toe stubbed something. I reached down and grasped it up.

It was a torch. The end was soaked with gasoline and smoke simmered off of it. This had to be what had started the fire. But a torch couldn't light something by its lonesome, someone had to do the work. But who? No one in Salem even know that the Sanderson's were alive. And no one had known that we hadn't been home. Although I couldn't picture a suspect, I knew one thing.

Someone had tried to destroy the cottage.


	14. Cloaks and Dresses

I knew that I had to inform the Sanderson's of what I had found, but not after I explored some more. The circle of pine trees had touched me, as if it contained a form of ancient magic that drew me in, like Sarah's voice drew in children. When I had entered the circle, a huge feeling of peace crashed down upon me. I knew that, like the Sanderson's, I was destined to be wicked. But I didn't think about it for this moment. Instead, I kept my mind occupied on finding clues to who had lit that torch. And something deep down told me that whoever it was, this circle held a significant place in their heart.

And, truth be told, the circle also put a song in my head.

"_You put your arms around me_," I sang. "_And I believe, that it's easier for you to let me go._"

It was Arms by Christina Perri, one of my favorite songs ever written. I always had used it to comfort me during the bad times, and boy had it worked! Music held a certain power over me. It always had.

Even though the smell of gasoline from the torch was stinging my nostrils to the point where I thought I'd pass out, it wasn't quite enough to stop me from searching. I checked everything, tree trunks, under piles of leaves, even under small pebbles. I was almost ready to sit down in defeat, when my eyes caught something. There, in the pile of boulders, was a huge crack. And something black protruded from it. I set the torch down and made my way over to it. I had to climb three boulders to get to a suitable spot where I could pull it out. When I grasped it, my hand was encased in a velvety material. Taking it to be what I had saw in Winifred's meadow, I pulled it out. It came out easily. It was heavier than it looked, and I had to tighten my grip on it.

I stood up and spread it out. Why, it was a heavy black cloak. When I spread it out, the hood flew upward. I lay it down and ran my hand over the smooth material. My fingers touched something rough near the hem. When I pulled on it, a small splinter of wood that had been stuck in the material almost gave me a sliver. As I looked it over, I realized that it looked like the same exact type of wood the Sanderson's front steps were made of. Then, two and two came together.

Whoever had lit the torch had been wearing this cloak.

I stuck the splinter of wood in the safest place I could think of, down my corset. I then grabbed the cloak and threw it over my shoulder and retrieved the torch. As I made my way back toward the cottage, the sun began to set, illuminating the sky a brilliant orange. On my way, the air seemed to obtain a certain chill that blew against my exposed skin. It made me feel strange.

I was happy when I returned to see that one of the Sanderson's had lit a fire in the hearth. In the middle of the room, the cauldron bubbled over a fire as well. But there was no one in the cottage, well, not on the first floor at least. Winifred's book sat open on the stand next to the cauldron, the cloaks were hanging over their usual chairs and all three brooms stood in the corner. And If I knew the Sanderson's , they never left without their cloaks. The thing that got me was that Winifred's book was open, and the fact that I could hear no noise being emitted from the second floor . How did three witches just disappear?

They don't!

To be sure that I wasn't just telling myself that there wasn't anyone home, I slammed the door closed, and loudly stomped my way across the room. I threw the torch onto the table with a bang, and I flung the cloak next to it. Still no noise.

"Winifred!" I shouted. "Mary? Sarah?"

Suddenly, I heard boots hit the floor upstairs. My head shot towards the stairway just as Winifred appeared.

"Where hath thy gone?" she hissed. She was all dry now, her hair brighter than bright.

"I went looking for clues to who tied to murder us," I replied.

Winifred eyed the table curiously. "And what hath thou found?"

I gently raised the hem of the cloak, just as Mary and Sarah came running down the stairs, giggling. What had they been up to? Winifred slowly approached the cloak.

"I hath found this cloak." I picked up the torch. "And this torch."

Winifred bore her front teeth awkwardly and took the torch from me. She held it at arms length, as if it would bite her or something. She then began to sniff it, only to draw back with a disgusted look on her face.

"What be that smell?" she choked.

"'Tis gasoline," I said, taking the torch from her. "A fire starter."

Winifred put her hands on her hips as she made her way over to the cloak. She then picked it up and began feeling the material, as I had. Mary and Sarah crept up behind her, and watched intently as she explore every inch of the cloak. "I hath seen this somewhere," Winifred admitted. "But where?"

Mary and Sarah both looked at each other. They then began to chant: "Remember, Winnie, remember. Remember, Winnie, remember."

"Hush, you fools!" Winifred screeched. "I cannot concentrate!"

As Winifred ran her thumbs down the hem of the cloak, I turned and looked out the nearest window. I swear I felt someone watching us, watching me.

"Kaytrina, where hath thou found this?" she asked.

I snapped back to her. "In the woods," I replied. "Beneath a group of pine trees."

Winifred pondered for a few moments. She then threw the cloak over the nearest chair and snatched the torch from me. "Mary! Sarah! Perhaps we ought to give this girl her gift!" she said in a high tone. Mary and Sarah began to giggle as they both bound up the stairs.

I looked puzzled. Gift? Oh boy! What nasty, evil things could Winifred have conjured up for me?

Truthfully, I didn't want to think if anything disgusting that Winifred could give me- the possibilities were endless. And the Sanderson's were, in fact, disgusting. Do you know whats on that vile shelf? Dead mans toes, the testicles of a bull, eye balls and ever dead spiders. I would know because I cleaned every one of those viles!

Just then I heard Sarah and Mary come back downstairs. They came up behind me and stopped. I was very weary to turn around, but, perhaps my gut was wrong. I turned around anyways.

What they were holding was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

It was a dress. A beautiful sky blue dress accented with black velvet. It also had silver corset laces lining the front. The whole beauty of the dress opened up onto a skirt of deep purple. It was renaissance style, with a little costuming thrown in.

"We hath made it for you," bragged Sarah.

"Well, Winnie did most of the work," said Mary with a half-smile.

Winifred looked pleased as Mary handed me the dress. I took it in my grasp, and, trying so very hard not to cry like a baby, I brushed my cheek against the soft velvet. It truly was the most beautiful thing I had ever owned, and to belive that three witches had given it to me! I couldn't help but shed a tear.

"Thank you!" I said, choking back tears of joy.

Winifred crossed her arms. "Well, we can't have thee running amuck in knickers all year," she remarked, her head high.

"Amuck!" squeaked Sarah. She then began to dance idiotically. "Amuck, amuck, amuck, amuck, amuck, amuck!"

Suddenly, Winifred's fist blew backward, smacking right into Sarah's middle. Sarah groped her corset and held out her tongue.

I wanted so bad to hug them all. But I held back. Witches didn't express physical love. I hadn't been taught that, but it looked that way.

"Well, you oaf, what art thou just standing there for? Try it on!" hissed Winifred.

I did. It fit perfectly. Oh, how majestic this dress was!

"It's perfect," said Mary, clapping her hands. "See, Winnie, I told thou that thee had the measurements right!"

"Hmmmm...yes, well, it wasn't very hard to figure out. She's a very small witch."

And for the first time, the word _witch_ didn't sound ugly whatsoever to me.


End file.
